Futuristically Speaking…

I have been doing a lot–well, no, that’s a lie; I haven’t done a lot–of thinking about the distant future and [spoken in despairing soap opera tones] my purpose, my destiny in this world. Can you blame a guy? In a couple of months I am off to the stomach–the metaphorical belly of the beast…life outside of a sandwich bag.

Not too often do I consider the future. It gives me the heebie jeebies. I predict one thing, like how I am going to have a financially successful standing by the time I’m twenty-one–funny, right?–or if I’m going to own a litter of dogs or children. Busy times either way.

But when I do ponder futuristic realities…I do so with optimism.

Everybody likes to think the future is a grumpy old fart who never does what you want unless it has its beauty sleep; but to shed some savory light on this abused character–read A Christmas Carol to see how badly his Christmas counterpart is described–the future is an agreeable fellow.

It controls your lives! It controls our lives! It strums an electric guitar of epic futuristic proportions while drinking a cup of green tea! People, Mr. Future. Mr. Future, People. Introductions are out of the way.

Now consider the future as related to you:

Is it…flying cars?

Is it…robot slaves?

Is it…the death of an annoying cat?

Is it…an A plus on your next math test? Am I right, guys? Yeah, Math! Kicking its logistic ass back to Archimedes!

Okay, you obviously know what I think about. Still, see the positivism?

Grimness has its place, no doubt about it. Some examples are the apocalyptic movies we have all seen: Mad Max; Apocalypse Now; The Road; The Stand; My Little Pony; Clifford the Big Red Dog–I could go on forever…that would be an apocalypse of its own. And the Grim Reaper. What a guy. Like a dependable weatherman he forecasts your death years before it comes it to fruition; oh, such a caring member of society.

Sometimes I frequent that dark side.

I walk over there with my head bowed and look up to those black shadows and I yell at the maintenance man for not fixing the lights! He is paid hourly; and yet there are no operable lightbulbs in that section!

So, you get me? The future is bright, do remember to pack sunglasses for the many tomorrows; and when you enter the dark half tell the maintenance man to work a little harder and switch out the bulbs…so many people have hit their heads helplessly wandering.

And then–you can come back to the future and reread this post.

Think daily, 

A Southpaw

 

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